


raise a glass to freedom

by Rainlight2427



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bartender AU, Character Study, Fake ID, Friendship, Good Jet, Iroh is a good uncle, Jet is a good bro, Modern AU, Modern AU with Bending, Slice of Life, Toph Beifong-centric, Toph has issues with her parents, Toph swears a lot, Underage Drinking, Zuko is a good bro, bartender therapist, good! Jet, lots of shenanigans, teenage angst, toph character study, toph-centric, yeah i rewrote her parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainlight2427/pseuds/Rainlight2427
Summary: The Jasmine Dragon has always been a refuge for Toph. When Iroh isn't in, the Gaipan Bar becomes her favorite haunt at seventeen years old. Yeah, her friends are gonna flip out. Ft. Bartender therapy, fake ID's, teenage angst. Modern AU with bending.
Relationships: Katara/Aang, Sokka/Suki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	raise a glass to freedom

The first time she visits the Gaipan Bar, Toph is seventeen years old.

The ground is sticky beneath her feet and she can smell the stench of unwashed bodies in the air, but she is in her element and hey—nobody can accuse her of not being able to handle herself.

She feels her way up to the counter—that's what it's called, right?—and fishes out her fake ID, the hard plastic edge firmly making little indents into her hand. It's harder to get a sense of where everything is, but she's accustomed to wooden floors by now, and can get a more or less accurate picture of the place.

Someone clears their throat in front of her from behind the counter. "I, uh," she begins to stutter out, realizing that she has no idea how to order. Spirits, she is such an idiot.

The bartender seems relatively unfazed by both her blindness and her clear lack of experience with alcohol and offers a sympathetic chuckle. "First time ordering alone?" he asks—yes, that's definitely a he. Young, too, from the sound of it.

She can feel warmth flood her face. "That obvious?"

His voice is still mirthful when he responds that yeah, that typically the first time people try to order from a bar is with friends and that he'd be happy to fix her up with a beer and that he'd just need to see her ID and she'd be good to go.

A pause. Even blind, Toph has always been very good at reading people, and this guy's skepticism is radiating through the stagnant air as he studies her fraudulent ID. She cannot keep from blurting out, "A lot of people say that I look really young for my age." Spirits, she's really done it this time, huh. "And uh," she racks her brains for more excuses. "My mom, uh, gave birth to me early."

What. The. _Shit_. She feels the familiar burn of embarrassment. "You know, like a premie—that's what they call us." It's true; Toph was born prematurely and has always been undersized but spirits, as talented as she is at bluffing, she's really talked her way into a corner this time. She berates herself internally—everyone knows that more is less when it comes to the art of bullshitting.

And really? What kind of dumbass excuse was a premature birth? Who even _says_ that?

Another tense pause. "Uh-huh." He says the words with a biting sense of _I'm-pretty-sure-this-is-fake-but-I-can't-prove-it-so-you-get-away-with-it-this-time_ , which is fine by Toph.

She mulls over what would happen if her family were to walk in—not that they'd be caught dead in an establishment like this one—and snickers to herself. Spirits, her mother wouldn't be above fainting clean away to see her only daughter sitting on a grimy barstool in a place like this.

Her mother always had been the sensitive one in the family, prone to melodrama. She would have made an excellent actress had she not married Lao Beifong when she was barely out of high school.

Her father, though, he was ice. Sometimes, when he comes home with his eyes bloodshot and breath smelling of alcohol and raving about honor and familial duty, Toph's mother would push her into her room and order her to stay put or _else_ —

Toph never really had stuck around to find out. The window had always been too inviting, and she's had years of stepping silently through earth with bare feet. _Children can be seen, but must not be heard_ has been drummed into her skull, and old habits die hard.

But even then, Toph can count the number of times he's truly lost it (at least, at her) on one hand, which is definitely a lot more some of her friends can say.

(Toph pushes away the thought of mutilated flesh under her fingers; she hadn't known about Zuko's scar until someone had mentioned it in passing. His shock and confusion at her ignorance of such a defining feature had been palpable then, and she had been so oddly quiet for the rest of the day that he'd had to nag her into eating dinner with the rest of the group.)

Toph doesn't resent her parents, not even when she can hear the shouting from her room before she's made her escape. Far from it. She knows full well how lucky she is to live in such privilege when evidence of poverty can be found right down the street—but that certainly doesn't make it any easier to bear.

It wasn't that they didn't just misunderstand the kind of person she is; a little nagging voice in the back of her head that won't shut up insists that her parents' love has always been conditional. It was lucky that she and her friends had gotten all that good press after kicking Zuko's dad's ass—they were heroes now. If they had failed—well, she has her doubts about whether or not her parents would welcome her back with open arms.

What was that line? _All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes*_. Toph is blind, not a dwarf, but she knows it's true.

It's a good thing they live in the city, where wide, expansive marble buildings are compressed beside cramped wooden buildings with probably more than a few expired food safety licenses—even the most gentrified districts are a stone's throw from seedy areas. It's never too hard to sneak out, with her bending.

It's been a couple of beers by now, and the bar is beginning to empty—it _is_ a weeknight. She pays up, bids the nice bartender farewell, and leaves.

-

Toph visits again. And again. After all, her parents' fights are getting louder and more frequent, and the bartender plays therapist so much better than her friends with his quick wit and listening ear.

Six months pass. Then a year. That turns into two years, and before she knows it, the Gaipan is getting dirtier and more broken and her parents are _this_ close to getting a divorce and Sokka and Suki are getting married and Mai is breaking up with Zuko and everyone is waiting for Aang to ask out Katara and life goes on.

-

One time Toph visits the Gaipan, she marches in with the full intent of getting blackout drunk.

She does not want to go to university. Sokka can't make her. Katara can't make her. Her parents _definitely_ can't make her. She can barely make sense of the expensive Braille books she gets every birthday from well-meaning relatives.

Toph had fled to the Jasmine Dragon for comfort. She can imagine Katara's big blue eyes—green? brown? Zuko's scar taught her that she didn't know her friends half as well as she thought she did, and Toph Beifong never needs the same lesson twice—swimming in confusion, concern. ( _"Don't you want to go to university? It'll be good for you—" "Not a chance, Sugar Queen." "But aren't you grateful to have the opportunity? I mean—" "I said no, Katara," she had finally snapped._ )

Sokka had hardly been much comfort either, all blustery _I-didn't-go-to-uni-and-look-how-I-turned-out-uni-is-overrated-anyway._ ( _"No offense, Sokka, but that's not any encouragement." "Are you saying -" "Shut up, Ponytail." He'd shut up._ )

Aang and Zuko had been busy, off doing some official business for his father's—no, his—company, and Iroh had, regrettably, taken the day off.

So. She'd driven away not only her family, but her few available friends too. Toph needs to get drunk.

The bartender is the same as always, all dry humor and easy laughs. She can get a good read on him and he can read her right back. Sure as shit, he goes into impromptu therapist mode when she walks in looking like someone had drowned a best friend or a pet before her very eyes (no pun intended). That is to say, Toph knows she looks like she's crawled out of the underworld using her bare hands and ragged nails. Her eyes are swollen and her nose is all stuffed up and she can barely breathe properly, the air coming to her in ragged, muffled gasps.

 _Deep breaths_. Pathetic.

_In, out._

_In, out._

"D'you wanna talk about it?" he asks sympathetically, rummaging around. A thump, a curse, a clink, the sound of smooth liquid splashing into a glass.

"I haven't even asked for anything yet," she protests when he places it in her hand.

He snorts. "Trust me, Beifong, I can tell when my patrons need a little something special." And, sensing her skepticism, "Seriously, it's on the house. I know that look. Now spill." Another unintended pun.

She considers his offer and drops a couple gold pieces into the tip jar—far more than the actual price, she's sure. He doesn't protest. "You know anything about pushy parents?"

"Nah. I'm an expert on dead ones though," he says with a chuckle, like he's trying to play it off as a joke, but immediately Toph feels like shit.

"I'm sorry," she says, automatically.

And then there's a shift in his mood, quick as lightning; he's angry. Not just a bit of irritation—it's a seething, deep-seated loathing. Just as quickly as it showed, he'd buried it under an easygoing, well-meaning demeanor.

It's not directed at her. This is a larger kind of anger, not reserved for individual people; it's a precise hatred on a massive scale.

He waves off her apology with a "don't worry about it."

 _In, out_. Toph doesn't want to go to university. She gulps down her drink, relishes in the path of raw that burns down her throat.

 _In, out_. She's not stupid, but _spirits_ , it's hard to prove that when you can't even read. Another giant gulp. He tells her to cool it with the drinking, it can't be good for her.

 _In, out_. University of Ba Sing Se has, of course, a special program for people Like Her. Toph knows what storage is when she hears it. It hurts that her parents want to throw her away. Maybe they think it's the best option, he says. She's on her third glass by now and really should cool it with the drinking.

 _In, out._ Another giant gulp anyway, just to spite him and the little voice of Common Sense in her mind. All her life, people have been making decisions for her because nobody sees her as a person, nobody thinks she's capable of doing anything herself. And at this point, Toph is so drunk that she doesn't notice him point out that she was capable enough to get a really, really good fake ID when she couldn't have been older than seventeen.

-

Toph wakes up with a pounding headache in the Jasmine Dragon. Iroh is bustling around somewhere and, later explaining that she'd showed up in a cab in the middle of the night, dead drunk, that he'd paid the fare. The Jasmine Dragon always had been her refuge, but she'd never shown up like this before.

His disapproval, his disappointment in her feels so familiar, and Toph can't bear it. She cries and cries and cries as he holds her hair as she pukes into the porcelain pot.

-

She ends up at University of Ba Sing Se. Her professors are all very kind and understanding but thankfully strict, and not accepting of any excuses, and it feels like a ray of sunshine after years of dark.

For being storage? It's...nice.

-

Her dad passes away of cancer when Toph is twenty. The funeral is nice, and the lilies smell like death. The funeral home is sleek and professional and offers soft, scented tissues to wipe away alligator tears. Toph doesn't bother.

(That's a lie. She just prefers to mourn in privacy.)

The Gaipan is practically waiting for her that night, but she doesn't show any emotion at all that day until she goes to bed and hears her mom openly crying in the other room. Turns out her parents didn't hate each other as much as she thought they did.

Toph curls into herself.

-

Twenty-one years old. Zuko and Aang and Katara and Sokka and Suki all manage to convince her to take the night out, hit a local bar.

Toph usually heads to the Gaipan straight from her house, not the Jasmine Dragon, so she doesn't recognize her surroundings until she feels the familiar sticky floors.

Shit.

Dream-like, she hears Zuko announce the occasion: Toph's twenty-first birthday.

There's a surprised yelp from her bartender friend and Zuko, and a cry of rage from Sugar Queen.

" _Jet?_ " squawks Zuko at the same time Katara snarls out "You _bastard_ ," which is funny because Katara prides herself on never swearing. The group swear jar, mostly populated by Toph, had been her idea.

Her bartender friend—Jet? It's odd, she never actually uses his first name—disregards her friends, and she can almost feel him arching a brow at her as he puts two and two together.

Zuko is still groaning, "He even has his stupid little grass," whatever that meant, and Toph wants to melt into the ground.

"I _knew_ it," Jet crows triumphantly, his suspicions realized.

Idiot, shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up _shut up_. Spirits, is he trying to get her killed?

"I knew you couldn't possibly be twenty-one, then!" He continues to laugh. "Now, what can I get you, Beifong? According to tradition, regulars get a birthday drink on the house."

Toph groans out loud. "I'm going to kill you."

It turns out okay though, not accounting for Zuko seething at her bartender no matter how many times Toph reassures him that Jet's an old friend (he actually seems to seethe more at that), and Katara's murderous glares, at both her and Jet. Toph might not have eyes, but damn, Katara has never been very subtle with her rage.

-

Toph wakes up with a headache again, at the Jasmine Dragon. Iroh is there, already ready with a pot of tea, but this time there are no waves of disapproval and disappointment emitting from the old man. And that's more than enough for her.

-

She wonders what will happen if she asks Jet about that all-encompassing anger—sounds like a touchy subject, what with the dead parents and all—but he's certainly played therapist for her long enough. Toph might as well repay the favor.

-

/end

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fic posted to AO3 (usually I’m on FF.net—I cross posted this fic there too actually under the same name) but I’m trying to figure things out here.
> 
> *Yes, that's Game of Thrones reference
> 
> Originally, this was supposed to have a more humorous turn, but uh, it kind of spun out of control with the angst.
> 
> Yeah, I rewrote Toph’s parents—mostly her dad—very heavily and I’m sorry y’all if you didn’t like it.
> 
> Lastly! I’ll be writing an Azula story soon—a full blown one, not a one-shot, so if you enjoyed this work and enjoy Azula, keep an eye out!
> 
> Thank for reading, guys, it truly means a lot.


End file.
